


the grace of time and chance

by shiv_roy



Category: DCU
Genre: Gen, the saga of me writing at 2am continues.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25481671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiv_roy/pseuds/shiv_roy
Summary: It was a beautiful day. The birds were chirping, the water in the lake making little ripples, warm sunshine and cool enough wind. Perfect, really. Dick almost felt bad that he was going to ruin it.ORDick has a talk with Bruce about Damian and the kids.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 127





	the grace of time and chance

**Author's Note:**

> Last night, Magic recommended me a fic and then I marinated in my salt before deciding this needed to happpen. Thanks to them for the beta and comments and title, which is from The One Moment by OK Go. 
> 
> Bruce might seem slightly ooc with how open he is... we'll have to deal with that because I will not deal with canon. Enjoy

It was a beautiful day. The birds were chirping, the water in the lake making little ripples, warm sunshine and cool enough wind. Perfect, really. Dick gave Bruce a tight smile as he unloaded the remaining fishing supplies. They laid out the chairs and set the fishing lines and put on their goggles and cracked open beers. They exchanged another smile as they clinked their bottles together. It had taken months to get this one afternoon and evening alone with Bruce, with none of the kids there. Months of rescheduling, making sure there weren't any Justice League or Gotham cases going, weeks to convince Bruce in the first place. Despite all the meticulous planning, Damian had ended up mad at him because Dick refused to take him. Tim didn't even care. He wanted to talk to Bruce, alone, and in a way that ensured they had plenty of time and he couldn't escape. 

Dick felt almost bad he was about to ruin the peace in a few minutes. It really was a beautiful day.

"Sometimes," Bruce said, "I would beg my father to take me fishing when he went with his doctor friends. Then one time he did and I found out how boring it was."

The look on Bruce's face was so easy it was hard for Dick to decide if it was genuine or riddle talk. If he was savoring this or if it was a subtle question as to why Dick had really brought him here, because it wasn't for the joys of fishing. Dick had selected it specially so they wouldn't have anything on their minds. He couldn't believe how they couldn't just talk straight sometimes. Everything was a fucking game with the Batman. Dick breathed in and out, trying to calm the growing simmer of anger.

"Did you go again?" He asked, going with a light smile, one that Bruce returned easily.

"I did. I didn't want to prove him right by admitting it was mind numbing. At least then it was, when it was just men making bad jokes and sharing doctor stories."

"And now?" Dick asked.

"Now, I'm here with you, chum," Bruce smiled. Chum. He hadn't called Dick that in ages, neither had he smiled at him so gently. Getting these many smiles out of him was a miracle these days. Not for Dick Grayson and a sunny day, evidently.

"I miss that," Dick admitted. "The chum thing."

That made Bruce laugh and actually reach over to ruffle his hair. "You need only ask, chum."

Dick smiled, but it was uneasily. Bruce noticed and sobered instantly. He could tell something was on Dick's mind. Once again, Dick felt bad that he was about to possibly start an argument on such a nice day. It couldn't have been more perfect. Bruce laughing beside him, having a beer with him, ruffling his hair with him, calling him chum. Dick wasn't lying when he said he missed it. Bruce was amazing to him, back in the day. Part of him wondered if he should stay quiet and just enjoy this day with Bruce. But today wasn't about him.

"How come you don't call the others that?" He asked, by way of conversation. It was a way to segue into what he wanted to talk about. Bruce could tell it wasn't a genuine question.

"I used to call Jason that," he said. He looked slightly uncomfortable, as if thought of the laughing, cheery Jason hurt him somehow, and Dick acknowledged it could. He had vague memories of teaming up with Bruce and Jason for small, gang cases. Nothing Batman and Robin couldn't handle on their own, but Dick knew now it was Bruce's way to get them to interact with each other, to ease them up to one another. The main thing Dick remembers from the time is resentment, at the start. Hatred for Bruce. A grudging sort of protective feeling over Jason. He regretted not indulging with Jason too much then. Still, Jason regularly texted him now and that was more than he could say for Bruce.

"Why are we here, Dick?" Bruce asked. Dick jerked out of his thoughts. The slight lax in Bruce's muscles from earlier was gone. His pose was still comfortable, but he was a little tense.

"I wanted to talk about Damian," he confessed. Bruce stiffened like a board.

"What about him?" he asked. Stiff. Closed off. Measured. Batman. There, Dick had done it. Got under his skin. Not a lot of people could. He sat up straighter himself, keeping the beer down on the ground and breathed out. Bruce's knuckles were white around his.

"Do you remember us? When I was Robin?" Dick asked. "You used to drop me to school every morning. And help me with homework every evening. You taught me basketball. Encouraged me to get on the team in high school."

"I don't see where this is going, Dick." Bruce seemed genuinely confused, for what it was worth. Dick had expected him to close off completely. But then, maybe the setting helped. It wasn't like Dick hadn't done research.

"You did that with Jason too, right? Made him a library in the Manor. You used to read together..." 

"I still don't see..."

"I- I think you're not giving him enough time. Damian, that is. Or Tim. You didn't give him enough time. Do you know Dami does art? It's beautiful. Alfred's been talking about getting it framed and hanging it around for the past year now. I promised I'd help him with it. Dami would be so happy. He's done a landscape of the Gotham skyline you know- absolutely beautiful. The view from Wayne Tower. I think it would be perfect for your study. Dami would lose it if you hang-," Dick cut himself off, realizing he was rambling and looked at Bruce. He looked very taken aback. More surprised than anything. 

"I knew he was into art. I haven't seen any pieces." Bruce paused, reading Dick's face. "He says to me that they're just sketches. I asked him a time or two- he didn't show me anything. So I dropped it."

"Well, he's hardly going to boast his own work," Dick shot back immediately, then noticed where this would go. He couldn't be defensive today, even if he cared for Damian more than he did himself. Bruce looked really taken aback. Alarmed, even. He continued quickly. "That's not- all I meant is that Damian really, really looks up to you. He couldn't take it if you didn't like something he made. So he'd rather not show you, than let you down."

"I see," Bruce said carefully, still looking a little shocked. "I'll make an effort to keep up with him, Dick. Both with his schoolwork and art. I'll make sure he knows I appreciate it."

There it was, the thing that annoyed him most. The way Bruce's words were so measured, to a T, not a drop more or less. Like Dick was something to appease. Like Damian was something to appease. That he would promise sweet things and then do the bare minimum so Dick couldn't say anything anymore. Indirectly say, _Look, I'm doing exactly what you said, what's your complaint now?_ It pissed him off more than anything. Once again and not for the first time, Dick made an effort to school his simmering anger. Bruce had been watching the line stonily while Dick stewed.

"No," he said. Bruce flicked his eyes at him. "I mean- yes- do that. By all means. Dami would love it. But I wanted to talk more."

Bruce let out a slow breath before straightening and keeping his beer down on the ground too. "Sure, Dick."

"I want you to make an effort- with Dami and Tim both- because you want to. Not because I said so, not for me. Like you wanted to with me, when you took first took me in. Like you did with Jason, before. God, Jason- don't even- he's mapped his patrol route around you, Bruce, so he doesn't run into you, and maybe that's a sailed ship- I don't know, maybe it's not! Jason could want to live in the Manor and have you tuck him in every night for all _you_ know!" Dick was getting worked up now. All the times he'd blocked his anger, worthless. And he couldn't stop. "And Tim- the boy doesn't even- God don't even get me started."

Bruce looked completely closed off now. His eyebrows only slanted up the tiniest bit to let Dick know he wasn't happy.

"Don't get you started on Tim," he said, a dangerous tilt to his tone. "Like how you replaced him with Damian while he was still alive and completely well? Have you perhaps considered that's why he texts Jason, not you for breakfast occasionally now? Did you really think he was over that?"

Dick gaped at him. "This is not about me, Bruce, don't you dare! I was alone, and confused- we'd lost you and I didn't know what to do! And I have apologized to Tim- several times- more than I can say for you with any of them, and I will apologize again to him and do everything in my power to make it up to him. And ultimately, it's his decision, to forgive me or not, he doesn't owe that to me. At least I'm willing to admit I fucked up, Bruce! At least I said that to his face! And by any means, don't even dare turn this in a competition. You adopted him. You fathered Damian. This is all your responsibility! You probably think you did an amazing job, don't you? With Tim? You didn't. You were so far gone in your own head after Jason, you barely did anything. The kid's parents neglected him so much, he thought the scraps you threw him were the paragon of parenting!" Dick was yelling by the end. He tried to school it once again. This hadn't at all gone the way he thought it, or wanted it to.

"And Damian- let's face it, you're barely there, Bruce. This case, that case. The Justice League. Entire nights and days with Selina. He sees Clark more than you. I offered to take him to Blud with me. For good. He almost said yes. He didn't because he goes to school with Jon. Do you even know how close he is with the kid? Do you know any of his friends? When he gets perfect grades? That he genuinely only likes his art teacher? You know I hate Talia, but she loves her kid. It's why she sent him away. Do you know he misses her, Bruce? A lot. I've encouraged him to make contact. But he wouldn't tell you because he's afraid. He's afraid of your disapproval. He's afraid of you."

A lump had started to form in his throat. _Don't cry_ , he thought to himself. _Please, no._

Bruce was so shocked his mouth had opened slightly. Dick hoped things hadn't gone past his head. He needed Bruce to retain this because he really couldn't do it again. He didn't have it in him. Despite himself, he felt a tear escape his eye.

"What happened, Bruce?" He asked softly. "You were amazing with me... I could tell you loved me... and now your own boy is afraid of speaking his mind to you. What changed?"

"I..." Bruce rubbed his face with both his hands, then leaned down, elbows on his knees. He looked harassed. Rightfully. Dick had meant this to be a discussion, not a yelling match. He wanted Damian to be happy, but Bruce too. He wanted them both to get the most out of their relationship. They'd missed ten precious years already. He wanted Bruce to realize his mistakes and he knew yelling wouldn't be effective. He'd made a mistake. Bruce would probably leave now. He'd leave and Dick would have to call someone to come pick him up. It was a three hour drive back.

"You're right," Bruce said, with a finality. His chin rested on his hands and he looked tired, so tired, but thoughtful. "I was wrong- I'm sorry about what I said to you about Tim. I was running from having to face my mistakes. I- I'll listen to you. Really listen. I'll make an effort. Genuinely. With Damian and Jason and Tim. Cass and Duke too. And you. You've taken care of them when I couldn't. You're just a child."

"Bruce..." Dick whispered. He was tearing up. But he smiled still. "Bruce, this isn't just about them. Us. It's about you too, you know. I want you to be happy, I want you to get the... joy of parenthood, or some crap. I want it to be like it was. You were so happy when it was just us, right? I want it back." Dick paused, the lump in his throat having gotten tighter. Bruce was looking at him, just looking. Dick remembered him looking at him like that when he was newly adopted sometimes. Like he couldn't quite believe he had a kid. "And I'm twenty-three, that's a whole full adult. Past drinking age too." A trial at humor. A thin smile appeared on Bruce's face. But that wasn't because it was controlled. He was just... tired. It was radiating off him in waves.

"Come on, talk to me," Dick urged, leaning forward and taking a hand from Bruce. It was so tightly wound in a fist. It still gave so easily when Dick made to hold it. "Whatever happened, we're gonna work through this. Maybe even schedule a few appointments with Dinah."

When Bruce looked up, Dick was surprised to see his eyes glossy with tears. He gave a short chuckle.

"I don't think just a few will cut it, chum," he said. "But... yes. It got too much. The League... you know how many secret ops are going on at a time. I run almost all of them. There are peace treaties to be done with almost every sector of the galaxy... I look at them. And I look at the muggings in Gotham too. Almost every case. I have to be prepared. I can't let go. It gets too much. There's so much to do and-"

"So much you're doing already too," Dick interjected. Bruce looked confused. "So much you're doing and so much to do."

"So much I'm doing," Bruce said, like testing the words. 

"Yes," Dick confirmed, giving his hand a squeeze. "You do so much. You deserve the credit. But we'll work on that in therapy."

Bruce smiled again. "In therapy. Okay."

"We'll do group therapy too," Dick promised. "Now you were saying- there's so much to do. "

Bruce sighed, rubbing a non pattern with his thumb on Dick's hand. "I don't trust people. Outside of our family. To lead an op that could endanger our world. I have to do it myself. In Gotham, I worry. It's not that I doubt any of your skills- I can't stop. Duke is so new, what if he gets outnumbered. Cass is my only daughter. What if Tim catches an infection. And Damian-" his face turned somber "-I don't like not knowing him. I don't hate being called father but I wouldn't mind it if he called me dad. And I… he looks up to you more, Dick. We both know it. You were there for him more than I was… I felt like a stranger to him. I'm sorry about it. To you and to him, and to myself."

"Bruce," Dick whispered. But he continued.

"I hate not knowing him. I hate that the mission did this to us. But it's his life in the balance. If I don't save the world, he'll die too.

"And I worry about Jason too, God, every minute. I don't want to lose him, Dick, I couldn't do it again." The tears have grown heavy in Bruce's eyes, threatening to fall over. He looked at Dick straight in the eyes. "And I worry about, every night, just as much as I worried on your first night on the rooftops, I-" he chokes off, the tears making a straight line down his cheeks and onto his shirt. He swallowed heavily. "I can't not, Dick. I have to be there to catch if you fall. You're my little bird."

"Oh, come here," Dick said thickly, crying now. Then they both got up and pulled each other in a tight hug. Bruce rubbed Dick's back like he did when he was a kid. Way back, when hugs were regular occurrences. Dick tried to do the same but failed, just scrunching his hands into the back Bruce's shirt.

"Promise me you'll lessen the League role," Dick whispered. "You can delegate on a project and let them handle it, I'll help you. But promise me."

"I promise, chum," Bruce whispered back. "I promise."

"Alright," Dick said, wiping his cheeks and patting Bruce. "Let's get back to fishing now. We have to make the camp fire. I promised Alfred we won't be home for dinner."

The hug was over but Bruce still rubbed Dick's back.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but we've caught nothing," Bruce said, looking at the calm fishing poles with a grimace. It wasn't like Dick had chosen this lake with no fish specifically so they wouldn't be interrupted or anything. He didn't feel very guilty, but his stomach did. Maybe it was the crying that did it but he was starving. He grimaced too.

"Well, what do we do now?" He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Driving back to Gotham seems to be the only option," Bruce said seriously.

"What?! That's three hours!" Dick paused. "Hey, do you think we didn't catch anything because we didn't use any chum? Should I try jumping in?" 

He tried for a winning grin but Bruce looked at him unimpressed. "Ugh, I'm starving. Gimme a break. You know the puns come out best on a full stomach."

Bruce was fully fighting a smile now. They walked around and drank water for a while before Bruce broke.

"Alfred packed us an ice chest of fresh fish because he believed we wouldn't catch any," he confessed.

"What?!" Dick almost yelled. "You're telling me now?"

"I was messing with you... Sorry I-" Bruce suddenly turned serious.

"Hey, it's cool, dude," Dick said quickly. "I was playing along."

"Don't call me dude." Bruce frowned.

"Whatever you say… how about _Bruceter_?" Dick grinned. 

"You haven't called me that in ages," Bruce said, smiling again. "Nice full circle." Dick couldn't even remember when Bruce had smiled this much last.

"You know, I kept thinking what the other chest was for. I mean, you never drink. I thought you planned on getting wasted," he said.

"Well, it's good I didn't, because then we'd have no fish and too much alcohol."

Dick laughed. "Alright, let's make a fire, old man."

Bruce pretended to be offended at being called old and went to get the fish. Dick lingered at the edge of the lake. The sun was setting. The air was pleasantly warm. There was going to be roast fish and more beer, and maybe a few more laughs with Bruce. It was still a beautiful day, Dick realized. He hadn't ruined it at all.

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/Comment if you liked this
> 
> My [tumblr.](www.brucie.tumblr.com)


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